Crowbar
by applebrooke
Summary: Dick and Barbara are attending a charity ball when a villain makes an unexpected visit and takes Dick away. Now struggling with past events regarding Jason and his death, Barbara has to learn to cope with her feelings to the best of her abilities in an attempt to get Dick back before it's too late. T for violence.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is my first ever fanfic, I actually started writing it for a school application in which I had to include a short story. This is something I threw together real quick, I realize some of the characters may be off and I apologize ahead of time for any errors. Please please please leave reviews with any positive or negative criticism, even if it's all bad- I want to hear about it so I can learn from it for the next time! This story will be about 3-4 chapters long. Rated T for violence. Enjoy!**

My toes are hanging off the edge of the building, my hair whipping circles around my body, encompassing me in a halo of brilliant red in the Gotham night. I inch closer to the edge. Three inches. One sudden shift of my weight and I'll start free falling towards the ground- 10 stories down. The air is crisp, persistently reminding me that I am in fact still alive with every breath I take. Alive. That's exact how he must've felt in those last few moments, right before everything went wrong, back when he still had faith in me and he was so sure of what would happen next. Four inches. He was always so damn sure of what would happen next and at the time, I hated him for it. Now I would do anything just to see that confident smile just one more time. To stare into his brilliant indigo eyes. To hold his hand. But he is gone and it is all because of me. Five inches. Because he trusted me when he shouldn't have, because for the fist time in his life, he was wrong about what was to come next and it costed him his life. Six inches. Just like his parents. And I'm falling. Free falling down, down, down. The wind is tearing at my suit and pulling my skin back from my skeleton. The ground is rushing towards me at an alarming rate but it's too late to make it stop, too late to take it back. Everything goes black.

**Barbara**

**48 Hours Earlier**

I'm walking up the front steps to the enormous oak doors that mark the entrance to Wayne Manor. This is the night- _my _night- and I can already tell that it's going to be perfect. I knock on the door.

"Ah Mistress Barbara. Come in." Alfred stands to the side, holding the door for me as I walk in, my golden dress that squeezes my body in all the right places brushing against the marble floors of the foyer. And that's when I see him. Dick Grayson. He leans casually against the banister of the master stairs, his tuxedo making his legs look longer and his shoulders look broader. His hair is perfectly gelled, a mixture of his civilian and superhero styles expertly combined to create a devilishly handsome 80's bad boy look. His indigo eyes pop like a lit candle in a dark room and I can't take my eyes off of him. I'm staring him down like a vulture hunting prey and I don't even care. _When did these feelings even start? _I wonder. _It feels like just yesterday that he was my best friend and _only_ my best friend._ It's odd how much things can change in such a short period of time.

"Babs," He says, knocking me out of my thoughts and drawing me back to reality. "You look... Gorgeous. You look gorgeous." He's stuttering, his face is flooding with color and I imagine mine is as well. He walks up to me and takes my hands in his, the feel of his skin sending butterflies shooting through my stomach at an alarming rate. I want to explode, I want to lean up and kiss him like my life was ending tomorrow, I want him in a way that I have never wanted anyone else in my entire life. I gaze into his eyes and I get lost. I am so hopelessly in love with this boy and he has no idea- not that it would make a difference if he did, considering our 'extracurricular activities'. We could never be together.

"Ahmm," Alfred clears his throat. " I hate to interrupt Master Richard, however, we should be leaving about now if you wish to arrive on time to the Charity Ball." We turn to leave to Manor but Dick still holds on to my right hand. It is warm and soft and strong, his hand is my lifeline and I never want to let it go.

**Barbara**

**47 Hours**

We are in the limo. Dick sits next to me, his thigh is squeezed against mine,my hand enveloped In his, his arm around me. And this it is perfect. This is what bliss is and I'm thinking of nothing but my inability to capture this moment and live inside of it forever, to always have his body melding into mine. But we are Nightwing and Batgirl. I know better than to be so foolish, to even believe for a second that we could ever be together, that it could ever actually work out. Bruce once told me that the second we give in to love is the second that our lives are put in danger, love is how people in our line of work get killed. And dead is not an option. The limo slows to a stop outside of a brilliant hotel. **The Hilton**. He's laughing hysterically at something I said as we get out of the car, we ascend the grand steps into the ballroom- the perfect couple.

**Barbara**

**45 Hours**

We have been dancing around and around for hours. Laughter tosses easily between us and the champagne bubbling in my stomach makes it that much easier to just forget about the real world. The two of us _are _the world right now and nothing else matters. We don't care about the $500,000 chandelier that hangs over our heads, we don't care about the granite floors we glide across, we don't care about the fake people with their fake smiles and pockets full of money, and we don't care about the breathtaking three story wall of windows paned in gold that lets the enormous moon and sky full stars bleed into the room like a virus. Until it shatters into a million pieces, showering hundreds of snotty millionaires with shards of glass. There are screams and people are running in every direction. The music has suddenly stopped and now we care. Nightwing and Batgirl. Dick Grayson and Barbara Gordon. We are the only people standing still in the whole ballroom. We look at each other and turn around, facing the now three story whole in the wall, at the same time. "I have a bad feeling about this Babs," he says to me.

"And what could've possibly prompted that?" And that's when we see him. Joker. Standing in the middle of where the window used to be, Harley Quinn beside him and that twisted grin planted across his face. My heart stops and I grasp for Dick's hand. _Jason._

" HAHHAHAHA. Dick Grayson," Joker shouts. _NO._ " OH _DICKY_! Come out, come out wherever you are!." My hand tightens around Dicks and I turn to run. But he doesn't follow. He's starting to move forward, towards Joker. _Nonononono. No! _

_" _Dick!" I hiss quietly so only he hears," What in the heck do you think you're doing? I am NOT letting you go!" I try moving again and this time he follows me, but only for a few yards.

"You have 10 seconds to come out or I'll blow this entire place to the ground HAHAHA," Joker screams and Harley pulls out a round object from behind her back with one hand, her other hand has a bright red button. He is not kidding. Not this time. "TEN!"

He leans down to whisper in my ear, his breath hot and moist against my neck, " We need Batgirl." He looks into my eyes and I nod.

"NINE!" We were trained to always put the city and its people's safety above our own. We were trained in the art of sacrifice and as much as it pains me to admit, he is right. He is always right. "EIGHT!" His eyes lock with mine one more time and I cling to his hand. I nod in understanding of the plan. He will give himself up to save these people and I will be Batgirl, not Barbara Gordon, "SEVEN!" and I will do my best to ensure the safety of these people and once that is done, I will find him. I will save him. I will bring him home. I hold onto his hand though, I don't let it go- I can't let it go. "SIX!" The last time I let someone sack rice themselves to the Joker for the sake of others, they ended up dead and I can't stand for that to happen again. Especially not with him. "FIVE! What's wrong _Dicky? _Is our little baby scared of daddy? HAHAHAH." Dick turns back and kisses me. It is hard and sweet and too quick. The kind of kiss that is not kind at all, but desperate and hungry. "FOUR!" And he leaves me with that, walks back towards the Joker and throws his hands up in the air.

" Here!" Dick shouts, " I'm here. Take me, just leave these people alone." In one swift movement Joker pulls out a pistol and shoots Dick in the leg. The room is filled with screams and then a white gas. I'm left screaming Dick's name as the world starts to spin and then goes black.

**Barbara**

**44 Hours**

It is impossible to understand loss until you have experienced it. The pain that accompanies it, the gaping hole it leaves behind that is unable to be filled. It is constant pain and grief and it never lessens, just dulls a little bit. One year ago today, Jason Todd was taken by the Joker and he was murdered. Beaten to death with a crow bar. Jason was like a brother to me, I felt responsible for his safety and after he was gone, I could hardly live with myself. I was the one out on patrol with him that night, I was supposed to have his back at all times but I let him go off by himself, I let him go walk right into Joker's trap and he was murdered because of it. Because of me. How am I supposed to live with that? With the fact that I am responsible for my brother's death? The night after it happened I went to the top of a building and stood on the very edge with half my foot hanging over. I wondered if he fear I felt was the same Jason felt right before it happened- only I wasn't feeling any fear, it was all adrenaline. What I hated most of all was how everyone talked about his death. Jason was dead but it was as if everyone was afraid to actually say the word, they would use phrases like _passed away_ and _lost his life_. I hated it. I wanted to hear them say that Jason Todd was dead, Jason Todd was murdered in cold blood by the Joker. The same man who the city is seemingly incapable of keeping locked up. So now the same thing has happened to Dick Grayson. He has been taken and it is only a matter of time before he is murdered. I may be Batgirl and I may do everything in my power to find him and save his life, but honestly, what are my chances against a mass murderer? Someone who kills for the heck of it, without any real reason or motive. He can't even give us that- a solid reason for the murder of Jason Todd. So here I am, the city's savior is standing in the cold, dark, rainy night all alone, crying. The city's savior is standing here like a helpless little coward instead of doing the only thing she knows how to do- save people. But what's the use in trying to save a person when you know that they are already gone?


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Don't forget to review! Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters. All content is based off of work published byDC Comics and I own nothing.**

**Dick**

**38 Hours**

My head is spinning. My vision is filled with black spots. My leg hurts- bad. I try to sit up but the movement sends pain shooting through my body. I fall back and hit concrete. _Ouch._ The room- or rather, cell- I am in is dark except for a single flickering light bulb that hangs from the ceiling. _Where am I? How did I get here? Where's Babs? BABS! _But no. Now is not the time to panic. Now is not time to be thinking about Barbara, it is the time to be thinking of survival, strategy, focus. _Think think think! What would Batman say to do right now? _Injuries. He would tell me to analyze my injuries, learn my weaknesses now so I will be prepared. No surprises, surprises ensure a moment of weakness. Weakness means death.

There is a wall about a foot to by right and I slowly shift my body, inch by inch, until I am slumped up against it. I can see at least part of my body now and one is for sure even in the dim light, blood. There is blood everywhere. No doubt the majority of it is from the bullet wound in my thigh, that alone means that I will have to play the part of a one legged protege if I have any hopes of getting home. That leg is a bum.

I heave a deep sigh and pain claws through my body once again, this time it is sharp and unforgiving, settling in my chest and leaving a tingling sensation for minutes afterward. Perhaps a broken rib or two then? Also not a good sign. Thats when I hear it. The laughter. A soft and sinister crackle that seems to come from all corners of the room simultaneously. And it doesn't stop. The laughter seems to go on for hours before finally stopping with three words, whispered so softly that I struggle to tell whether it was my imagination or not: _Why so serious?_

**Barbara**

**30 Hours**

I am running. Jumping. Flying. Kicking. Punch. I am chasing down every lead, every single person who could _possibly _know anything about Dick's disappearance. I am merciless tonight. Already, Batman and I have searched every single one of Joker's usual hangouts, we have discussed with the police, cross-checked records, viewed security footage. But nothing is helping. It has already been too long since his disappearance, the police say that the first 24 hours are the most crucial, but that is a lie. It's the first 12 hours that make the difference here in Gotham, they are the deciding factor of whether or not that person will be brought back home alive or cold. It has already been 14 hours and we have no clue where he is.

_What would Dick do if he were in my situation? _ The only thoughts surfacing to my mind are that he is missing, Batman- the greatest detective in the world- can find no solid lead to follow and this is exactly what happened with Jason. Then it hits me: _The tracker!_ Batman installed trackers on all of our utility belts and uniforms about a year ago, he said that it was a safety precaution, in case one of us were to go missing or was unable to respond through the com system.

I had thought that they were an invasion of privacy at the time- afterall, we were required to have our utility belts on our person at all times- but now I could kiss his feet I am so grateful for them. I immediately pull up the mini bat computer that is built into my suit and manual turn Dick's tracker on, it takes a few seconds to show up on the map and it's not until a bright red dot pops up that I realize I had been holding my breathe. I didn't even know for sure that Dick actually took his belt with him to the ball, but it appears that he had, judging by that fact that the dot was located about 10 miles north of my current location in central Gotham. It's not moving. With that, I start running. _I'm coming Dick._

**Dick**

**30 Hours**

Joker. He is in my cell, walking circles around me, holding a crowbar. He suddenly stops, pulls the bar high above his head, and slams it into my jaw. The force of the blow knocks me over onto my side, pain is pulsing through my head and black blotches my vision. The world is spinning on its side. Blood is everywhere, it is under my face, pooling on the floor, soaking my clothing, and choking me. I try to spit some of it out of my mouth but I have no energy and it ends up dribble across my cheek like drool.

"Wow. That looks like it _really_ hurt." He hits me again in the ribs this time. Then the pelvis and I hear a crack. And then he hits me in the face again and I'm whipped up to my knees from the force, my broken leg can't support the weight and I fall again. I hardly feel the pain anymore. "Woah now wait a minute… That looked like it hurt maybe just a little bit more HAHAHA. Now you should be thanking me, always so serious and never happy. Well, I'm here to help, to beat the serious out of you, fix you up. You can't expect to do your parents proud with an attitude like that, why I bet they would be so ashamed of you. You should know better than to let down your good ol' pops, such a disrespectful son you are! Let me just teach you a little lesson!" I could strangle him if it weren't for my injuries.

He has been doing this for hours and how I am still alive and able to think? I do not know in the slightest. " So _Dicky_ you like experiments, so lets experiment. You tell me which hurts more. Forehand?" He hits me. "Or how about backhand?" He breaks another bone, that makes about 15 if I counted correctly, and I let out a piercing scream. "AHAHAHA I know! How about both?" And he hits me both ways, one after the other, in the same spot, four times. I let out a moan and shift awkwardly to face him.

He learns towards me, pressing the bar into my neck and I muster up every ounce of strength I can find and spit a disgusting mixture sweat, blood, and saliva into his face. His scowls at me and throws a punch at my nose- it is broken as well- he laughs at my moaning and pulls me up to his face by my hair. "What was that _sweety?_ I can't understand you, perhaps you should speak up?" He slams me back to the concrete floor and kicks my abdomen. I'm immune to the pain. "Now I remember that last little bird I played with, he was _so _pathetic. Didn't last two hours before he was begging me for mercy, 'Please stop!' he said. 'You're going to kill me!' and so you know what I did? I _did_ kill him, and can you blame me? I couldn't just let the boy down! He was expecting me to kill him and I just _had _to keep up appearances and expectations. He was so weak- a disgrace." I try to yell, defend Jason's name, but all I can get out is a grunt that is no louder than a cough. My head is spinning fast than ever before and I let myself fall into unconsciousness- or maybe it is death, I can't say that I particularly care which it is anymore anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is the last chapter, I hope you enjoyed it! Just some short thing I whipped up as a plot twist to the usual storyline. Don't forget to review! I want to know what you guys think, whether you hate it or it's alright. Disclaimer- I own these words but not the idea or characters, those are all owned by DC Comics.**

**29 Hours**

I open my eyes and he is instantly in my face, I can see the sweat gleaming through his white face paint and the grease coating his hair, I can spell his awful breath. Disgusting. "Well I gotta go kid! It's been fun though- right? More fun for me than you perhaps- judging by how quiet you are being. Anyway, see you later, hasta la vista, merry Christmas. Don't forget to tell the Bats that I said Hi! HAHAHA" And with that he kicks me one last time before jumping up and prancing towards the door. It slams shut behind him and I suddenly realize that this is my only and last chance to get out alive. My body is numb from the beatings and I feel no pain as I try to bring myself up to my knees. _Just get to the door!_ But even though I can't feel the pain, my body is still broken and I fall to the ground after a few seconds.

_Crawling it is then. _

**Barbara**

**29 Hours**

I am 5 minutes away from his location, the bat-cycle is going top speed down the roads, sweat is beading across every inch of my skin and my mind is numb of everything but this one goal. I need to be on top of that red dot. Now.

And that is when I see it. A shed is sitting on top of a hill about a mile away, undoubtedly that is where Dick is being held. It is about the size of single car garage with no windows and a flat roof. Everything about it screams murder scene.

**Dick**

**29 Hours**

My hand clings to the cold steel handle of the door like it is a lifeline. It might as well be. I jiggle it up and but nothing happens- it doesn't give. _THE DANG DOOR IS LOCKED! _I slump back to the ground, _So this is defeat. This is what it feels like to be helpless and sitting on death's doorstep. This is hell._ But then I hear a faint ticking coming from the corner of the room and I look over to see a countdown in red digital letters. _00:10. A Bomb. _Normally, I would be able to disable it in two seconds flat, but just the journey over to that corner would take me a good 5 minutes in my current state. There is no use.

**Barbara**

**29 Hours**

I am 200 feet away from the shed when it blows up, sending me flying backwards and confirming my biggest fear. Dick Grayson is dead. Blown to pieces in his final face off with the Joker and he didn't even get the dignity of dying in battle in suit. He was stripped of one of the most important parts of his life and locked in a cement cube to be tortured. I didn't even get to tell him I loved him. He never got to get married or have a child.

He went the way he would've wanted- sacrificing himself for the good of the people of Gotham City. Always so noble. So selfless to the point of idiocy. I run towards the rumble and find his body under large chunks of burning wood and concrete. He is so small and broken, his skin nearly black from all the soot and blood. At least half of his bones are clearly broken, some breaking through the skin and the sight tears my heart to pieces, I let out a sob. He was only 22 years old. Far too young to die like this- to die at all.

I crumple to the ground, his body in my arms holding him with the same wanting he used to hold me up with. And I cry. I sob for hours. It is not fair, none of this is fair. I should've been the one that was taken. He should've known better than to just turn himself in to the Joker for no apparent reason. He was so stupid to do that. Who does that? But that is a stupid question because of course he would be the one. I should've been faster, I should've thought about that stupid tracker sooner, _hours_ earlier. It is my fault that he is dead.

When we had first met back in middle school, we made a pact that we would always stick together and back each other up, no matter what the cost or circumstances. I let him down, I didn't have his back and now he is dead. Dead. Dick Grayson is dead.

**0 Hours **

I can't take it anymore. I can't take the looks on everyone's faces when they find out, I can't stand the fact that I can't call Dick and cry to him, I can't feel his warm cinnamon breath on my neck as he whispers _everything will be okay_. Nobody has yet to blame his death on me but I can still see the blame in their eyes. He died exactly how Jason died- we couldn't stop it the second time any better than we could the first and now the love of my life is stiff and cold and lifeless.

The funeral is tomorrow. Batman is still trying to figure out how to keep up Nightwing's appearances in the city for a little while longer so people don't catch on to Dick's former secret identity. I haven't talked to anyone in hours, tears have been streaming down my face for days, I am run dry. My face is red and swollen and I heave dry sobs. Dick is the only person I want to see, the only person who could possibly make me feel better but he is dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. I step closer to the edge of the roof with every repetition of the word until I am looking down at the street below.

My toes are hanging off the edge of the building, my hair whipping circles around my body, encompassing me in a halo of brilliant red in the Gotham night. I inch closer to the edge. Three inches. One sudden shift of my weight and I'll start free falling towards the ground- 10 stories down. The air is crisp, persistently reminding me that I am in fact still alive with every breath I take. Alive. That's exact how he must've felt in those last few moments, right before everything went wrong, back when he still had faith in me and he was so sure of what would happen next. Four inches. He was always so damn sure of what would happen next and at the time, I hated him for it. Now I would do anything just to see that confident smile just one more time. To stare into his brilliant indigo eyes. To hold his hand. But he is gone and it is all because of me. Five inches. Because he trusted me when he shouldn't have, because for the first time in his life, he was wrong about what was to come next and it costed him his life. Six inches. Just like his parents. And I'm falling. Free falling down, down, down. The wind is tearing at my suit and pulling my skin back from my skeleton. The ground is rushing towards me at an alarming rate but it's too late to make it stop, too late to take it back. Everything goes black.


End file.
